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MOUNT VERNON, 



§t\tx 'Mams, 



BY H(J^RICE 




BOSTON: 

JOHN p. JEWETT & Co. 

CLEVELAND : 

HENRY p. B. JEWETT. 

1858. 







Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by 
H. RICE, 

in the Clerk's office of the District Court, for the Northern 
District of Ohio. 



Printed by Pinkketow & Nkvins. 



The Poem, whicli takes precedence in the following pages, 
relates to a subject of abiding and increasing public interest, and 
for this reason, more than for any other, the ^rriter has been induced 
to think that its publication might be received with some degree 
of indulgence. The other pieces are included, with the hope that 
they will prove acceptable to the Reader in the connection in which 
they appear. 

Cleveland, Jan. 2, 1858. 



CONTENTS 



PA6X. 

lOUNT VERNON 13 

^ The Stream of Time 21 

Onward 30 

^ Haunts of Childhood 33 

Who is She? 39 

vThe Voyager 42 

Violets ^ 45 

vWhat is Life] 47 

^The Far West 7 49 

"^Vernal Whispers 53 

"^Give us Light 65 

The Clock 57 

Warren's Appeal 59 

^HE MYSTERY OF LIFE 63 

The Bachelor's Request 73 

'^he Battle of Lake Erie 75 

The Aged Beggar 78 

Laura 80 

Worship , 84 

"^Cuba 85 

^ Summer, 87 



10 CONTENTS. 

ANCESTRAL PORTE AITS 91 ' 

A Word to the Wise . . 103 

"" A Conceit 106 

' The Old Church 109 

• Monticello 112 

The Last Day of the Year 114 

" Floating Along 116 

" The Area of Freedom " 118 

^ To a Poetess 120 

Tacit Language 122 

The Rainbow. . .-.ttt-.tt-. .t^^v^.-. t^^^^. *-.^, 124 

THE LAND OF FREEDOM, 129 

A Particular Star.f 150 

Innocence 152 

The Fourth of July 154 

Sympathies 156 

The Earth , 158 

Man : .• 162 

The Sleigh Ride. 164 

The Lament 166 

Human Hearts ^ 168 

Departed 172 

The Classic Land 174 

^ The Celestial Visitant 176 

~- The Mystic Chart. . . .• 178 

NOTES 181 



Ittottnt I 



MOUNT VERNON. 



On yonder swelling height, 
With ivied oaks and cedars crowned, 
Where Freedom's banner floats in light, 

And every whispering sound 
Breathes of the past, 'tis consecrated ground ! ^ 

Pilgrim ! ascend the steep, 
And there, with true and feeling heart, 
On Vernon's brow deep silence keep; 
Ay, let the tear-drop start, 
While proud, yet hallowed thoughts a balm impart! 

13 



14 MOUNT VERNOX. 

Nature hath marked the spot, 
Where sleeps the great, the good, the wise, 
Entombed — yet ne'er to be forgot — ' 

Ah, there the Hero lies I * 

The man of mighty deeds and high emprise. 

A calm hill-side retreat, 
That's mirrored in Potomac's tide ; 
The spot he chose, at Vernon's seat, 

'Mid wild-flowers, scattered wide, 
And pleasant groves that wave in native pride. 

Though but a lowly shrine, ^ 
There grateful hearts delight to pay 
Homage to Freedom's son divine ; 
The mightiest in the fray. 
The mightiest in his country's darkest day I 

And with him, at his side. 
There rests the loveliest of her clime. 
His bosom friend and sainted bride — 

Death's dream, oh, how sublime I 
Responsive still to memory's magic chime I 



MOUNT VERNON. 15 

True worth like his, disdains 
The marble's proud emblazoued chart, 
And trusts to that which still remains 

Engraved upon the heart, 
When crumbling fall the monuments of Art. 

But turn where peers the Hall, 
In which the Chieftain dwelt of jore, 
And view, still gleaming on the wall, 
The armor which he wore, 
With belt and plume, and sabre stained with gore ! 

Enter, with reverent brow. 
That old unguarded Mansion proud, 
And tread the hearth, that's hallowed now. 

Lightly, as you unshroud 
The silent Past with heart that beats aloud! 

Though few, they linger yet, ^ 
Beneath that roof and aged tree ; 
The race whose star shall never set, 
The kind, the frank, the free ; 
Links in the chain of Southern chivalry. 



16 MOUXT VERNON. 

A cliivalry that's bold, 
An honored line of gallant men, 
Who still revere the davs of old, 
When heroes lived, and when 
Great deeds were done, tho' now 'tis not as then ! 

For then, with all her brave. 
And noblest patriots of the land. 
The South her pledge to Freedom gave. 

Her Sumters, Henries, and 
Her Sage of Monticello, heart and hand. 

Wherefore, with anxious eyes, 
The friends of Freedom, everywhere, 
Watch in Columbia's ample skies, 
Afar in upper air. 
Her eagle poising in the sunlight's glare. 

Ay, watch with hope and fear, 
And wait to trace that eagle's flight ; 
Nor marvel, though the rolling year 

Unfold to man new light, 
Enlarcrinn: still the bounds of human rifrht. 



MOUNT VEkNOX. 17 

But still — still let us not, 
Amid these scenes and quiet charms, 
Forget the memories of the spot, 

Which filial love embalms ; 
Nor yield our cherished hopes to wild alarms. 

How oft with placid eye, 
Has he, whose spirit awes us still, 
Stood where we stand, and viewed the sky, 

The river, vale and hill. 
And heard the forest-bird its anthem trill. 

And where the garden cheers * 
The heart with fruits, and flowers, and shade, 
How oft, amid life's calmer years, 
Has he his steps delayed. 
To muse on charms which Nature there displayed. 

Even yet, like Eden fair. 
Ere Innocence, beguiled, had erred, 
That garden's wealth and balmy air, 

With woman's whispered word, 
Enchant the saddened soul that's deeply stirred. 



18 MOUNT VERNON. 

Nor limit here your view, 
But scenes that still surround you greet; 
There rolls Potomac's tide of blue, 

Majestic at your feet, 
Where busy Commerce spreads her whitened sheet. 

In triumph o'er that wave. 
Shall ever float our banner's fold, 
While voyagers point the Hero's grave. 
And gaze, with awe untold, 
On Vernon's steep, like seer on Mount of old. 

And down the vale that sweeps 
In graceful curves to ocean's tide. 
How calm the bridal landscape sleeps, 

While zephyrs playful glide, 
Fanning the flowers, and kissing them beside I 

And in the distance rise, 
Like sentinels to guard the scene, 
Proud hills, beneath the mantling skies. 
With pleasant vales between. 
Where Nature ever wears a smile serene. 



MOUNT VERNOIV. 19 

Aud there, in all her pride, 
The Federal City lifts her spires ; 
Where avenues are long and wide. 

And men, with large desires. 
Aspire to place, impelled by patriot fires I 

On Vernon's height, I weet, 
Beneath the moonbeam's mellowed ray, 
Oft shadowy ranks of warriors meet, 

Who triumphed on that day, 
When host met host, and heroes carved their way ; 

Scarr'd men, in warlike guise. 
Whose hearts still cling to memories dear ; 
Veterans, whose bosoms heave with sighs. 
For him, whose bright career 
Inspired the oppressed with hope, and kings with fear. 

Perchance a stalwart form, 
Amid those ranks, high-plumed, is seen, 
Columbia's friend, who shared the storm, 
Son of a clime serene. 
Whose love for Freedom's Land no power could wean. 



20 MOUNT VERNON. 

When last that friend surveyed 
His Chieftain's tomb, in life's frail hour, 
How swelled his breast to grief betrayed. 
While tears, with magic power. 
In silence fell, like dew-drops on the flower. ^ 

In all her wide domain, 
Say, where has Nature lavished more 
To please the eye, the heart to gain, 

Or win the affections o'er, 
Than here upon Potomac's peaceful shore? 

'Twas here, retired, he sought 
A tranquil life, to love endeared ; 
He who the stern resolve had wrought. 
In days of gloom uncheered, 
To strike for Human Rights, though traitors sneered I 

When erst the Hero drew 
His battle-blade amid the wild, 
Braddock, with English blood, 'tis true, 

Spurned him as but a child, 
Yet rashly fell, with many a victim piled. 



MOUNT VERNON. 21 

Nor dreamed the world, as yet, 
That glittering on a stripling's breast, 
The " star of empire " had been set; 
Nor dreamed, as yet, the opprest, 
How soon that rising star would cheer the West. 

When Freedom's spirit woke, 
And blood at Lexington had flowed, 
Brave men flung ofi" at once the yoke, 
The allegiance which they owed, 
And flew to arms with zeal that fervent glowed. 

From mountain, hill and glen, 
Like torrents rushed the sons of toil ; 
Indignant, yet high-minded men, 

Defenders of the soil. 
Whose sturdy blows the oppressor could not foil. 

Proud Mistress of the Sea ! 
They taught thee, sure, a lesson wise. 
Who o'erboard cast rich freights of tea 

Before thy wondering eyes, 
And dared thy royal stamp and tax despise. 



22 



MOUNT VERx\ON. 

Though darker grew the day, 
**A day that tried," as if by fire, 
*' Men's souls," yet heroes led the way, 

Fearless of Britain's ire, 
With solemn vow to triumph — or expire ! 

Musing, methinks I hear 
The Chieftain's voice, the foeman's tread, 
And shout of men who knew no fear, 
Onward to victory led, 
Our brave old sires, with Freedom's banner spread. 

Beneath a wintery sky, 
At Trenton, in that glorious fight , 
O list the bold triumphant cry 

Of Liberty and Eight, 
Flung back from hill to hill with wild delight ! ^ 

Born with a god-like mind 
And generous heart, he was the one 
Ordained of Heaven to bless mankind, 
Columbia's noblest son. 
The pride of earth, the immortal Washington! 



MOUiNT VERNON. 2S 

Sternly he led the van, 
The Champion of his country's cause, 
Sworn to defend the rights of man, 

His country and her laws, 
Against a sway that half the world o'erawe^. 

' Twas he — and he ak:)ne — 
Whose skill could guide the banded few, 
The few who shook a monarch's throne, 
Patriots, sore tried, but true ; 
Those iron men, w^ho swept the foe like dew. 

And well they earned their fame, 
Who fixed on Freedom's star their gaze, 
And fought and bled in Freedom's name, 
And, 'mid the battle's blaze, 
Bore off the palm, in those heroic days. 

Cornwallis 1 still thy shade 
Bewails, I ween, the fated hour, 
That saw thee yield thy valiant blade 

A prize to sterner power, 
With spirit bowed, till then, untaught to cower. 



24: MOUNT VERNON. 

And though with victory flushed, 
The conqueror meek his laurels wore ; 
By him the Lion's rage was hushed, 

The Eagle taught to soar, 
And Freedom's flapr unfurled forevermore. 

Nor sought he self-renown, 
But chose to bide the people's sway ; 
Yes, from a proffered kingly crown. 

With scorn he turned away, ^ 
And moral virtue hailed her proudest day. 

Yet his were honors high — 
The highest which the world bestows ; 
Exemplar 'neath the Omniscient eye, 

The right he ever chose. 
And shunned the wrong, unswayed by friends or foes. 

And Peace and Plenty reigned — 
Still reign to bless the brave and free ; 
While Equal Rights, endeared, maintained, 
Have linked in harmony 
The kindred States, which stretch from sea to gea. 



MOUNT VERNON. 25 

With feelings ever kind, 
And counsels wise, he bade adieu 
To place and power ; and, with a mind 

Content, and heart still true, 
Like Cincinnatus, to the plough withdrew. 

iVges, as they advance. 
Dim in the mist of future time. 
Warriors, who strike with Freedom's lance. 

Patriots of every clime, 
Will still his virtues blend with deeds sublime. 

yes 1 in every prayer, 
And vow to God and Freedom made, 
His name the oppressed shall breathe, and dare, 
With well-directed blade, 
Reclaim their holiest rights, too long delayed. 

How vain the lofty tower, ^ 
Though reared to heaven by giant hand, 
To speak his praise, whose deeds of power 

Redeemed his native land. 
And won him fame that will through time expand. 



26 MOUNT VERNON. 

On Vernon's azure side, 
Where eagles stoop to build the nest, 
There let the Hero, with his bride, 

In hallowed slumber rest ; 
His fittest monument the mountain's crest. 

O may the land that's free 
Ne'er fall a prey to faction's blight, 
But, with her glorious History, 

Still blend a holier light, 
To cheer her sons, and guide them in the right! 

And yet, though few may dare 
Columbia's onward march deride, 
Of power o'ergrown, let her beware, 
Her glory and her pride. 
As onward still she moves with fearless stride. 

Wide as the world is wide, 
Shall Freedom's blessings yet extend ; 
And man, whate'er his clime, confide 

In man, as friend in friend. 
And pride of power her errors wisely mend. 



THE STREAM OF TIME. 

In silent grandeur sweeps 

The Stream of Time ; 
And on its shores lie strown, in heaps, 

The wrecks of every clime. 

Fragments of ancient Art, 

Temples and towers ; 

And sepulchres, that still impart 

Lessons of life's brief hours. 

27 



28 THE STREAM OF TIME. 

Yes, empires proud and vast, 

That rose unchecked. 
The mightiest of the mighty Past, 

Have on that stream been wrecked. 

And there, at unknown date, 

Have perished names 
That awed the world, of heroes great, 

Plumed lords, and jeweled dames. 

And cast, like worthless weeds, 

Upon the wave. 
There old opinions, and old creeds, 

Have found a nameless grave I 

And onward still will glide 

The Stream of Time, 
That bears us to an Ocean wide, 

The shoreless and sublime I 



THE STREAM OF TIME. 29 

And we, in turn, shall leave 

Sad wrecks behind. 
All that we are, or may achieve, 

All but the immortal mind ! 



ONWARD. 

With heart that trusteth still, 

Set high your mark; 
And, though with human ill, 

The warfare may be dark, 
Resolve to conquer — and you will I 

Resolve, then onward press, 

Fearless and true ; 
Believe it — Heaven will bless 

The brave — and still renew 
Your faith and hope, even in distress! 



30 



ONWARD. 

Press on, nor stay to ask 

For friendship's aid ; 
Deign not to wear the mask, 

Nor wield a coward's blade, 
But still persist, though hard the task. 

Rest not — inglorious rest 

Unnerves the man ; 
Struggle — 'tis God's behest! 

Fill up life's little span 
With God-like deeds — it is the test — 

Test of the high-born soul, 

And lofty aim; 
The test in Historj^'s scroll 

Of every honored name I 
None but the brave shall win the goal. 

Go act the hero's part, 

And, in the strife, 
Strike with the hero's heart, 

For liberty and life I — 
Ay, strike for truth ; preserve her chart. 



31 



32 ONWARD. 

Her chart, unstained, preserve; 

'Twill guide you right ; 
Press on, and never swerve, 

But keep your armor bright, 
And struggle still, with firmer nerve. 

Error must fall at last. 

It is ordained ; 
Old creeds are crumbling fast, 

But ere the victory's gained, 
Heroes must strike — the die is cast I 

"What though the tempest rage, 

Buffet the sea I 
Where duty calls engage; 

And ever strive to be 
The moral Hero of the Age ! 

Strike, till the oppressor's pride. 

Be made to yield; 
Nor fear, though life's warm tide 

Crimson the battle-field I — 
God for thxi right will sure decide ! 



HAUNTS OF CHILDHOOD. 

Though dear to me are Western charms, 
Rivers and lakes with outstretched arms, 

And prairies broad and free ; 
Yet dearer still my Native Land, 
Her mountains, vales, and ocean strand, 
With old tried friends to grasp my hand. 
And welcome me I 

0, give me back New England's hills, 
Her daisied meads, and trouted rills, 

And mountain air, once more; 
The land where churches lift their spires, 
And bosoms glow with chastened fires ; 
The land God gave our Pilgrim sires, 
In days of yore ! 



33 



34 HAUxXTS OF CHILDHOOD. 

Yet mine 'tis not, undimmed, to find 
The hearth where glowed affections kind, 

'Mid hopes too bright for tears ; 
Those purer joys, which thrilled my breast, 
And gave to life its sweetest zest — 
With her whose lip, maternal, blest 
Mine earliest years I 

Still unassailed by ruthless hand, 
0, let that dear old mansion stand, 

Though strangers tread its hearth ; 
And spare that elm, unbowed, unbroke, 
Which still survives the lightning's stroke, 
Crowning the hill, where curls the smoke, 
As at my birth I 

Not far away, 'mid hillocks green, 

The letter'd stone, moss-grown, that's seen 

Nodding o'er sacred dust. 
Brings back to me the faded past, 
A mother's love and kiss — the last — 
With lessons kind, to which, steadfast, 
I clinff and trust. 



HAUNTS OF CHILDHOOD. 35 

With lingering step and heart sincere, 
There let me drop the filial tear — 

In tears still seek relief ! 
Like ocean's surge that restless heaves. 
My days roll on, yet memory weaves 
Her twilight o'er the past, and leaves 
A balm for grief ! 

And yet my heart — it cannot heal, 
I love old memories, and still feel 

Their magic o'er me flung ; 
But list; from steepled church, I hear 
The old town clock, deep-toned and clear. 
That knells the hours from year to year, 

With iron tongue! 

And there, adown the vale, I see 
A noisy group, low roof and tree ; 

The spot to which I hied. 
In summer's heat and winter's snow, 
A satcheled lad, who cared-ta know 
Little of books, nor much I trow 
That's wise beside ! 



36 HAUNTS OF CHILDHOOD. 

There glides the brook, whose flowery bank 
Was oft the scene of many a prank, 

And feat attained at school ; 
And, like a spectre, near the hill, 
There stands the same old clicking mill. 
Where many an idle urchin still 
Disturbs the pool ! 

A truant there, beneath the spray, 
How oft I've angled all the day, 

Or gathered pebbles rare ; 
Ay, waded half-way to the chin. 
To build the crib, and drive them in, 
The startled brood, with silver fin, 
Shy of the snare I 

When woods were tinged with Autumn's hue, 
Oft o'er the hills I've brushed the dew. 

Ere flashed the morning sun, 
In search of treasures shaken down, 
By wind and frost — nuts white and brown; 
Or sought in chase of game renown. 
With mimic gun ! 



HAUNTS OF CHILDHOOD. 37 

Around those haunts I loved so well, 
When but a child, there breathes a spell, 

A spell that charms me yet; 
The stately elm, 'neath which I played, 
The frowning steep, and vfizard glade, 
And more than all, the wild cascade. 
With jewels set. 

And yet there is one hallowed shrine. 
Around which holier memories twine. 

Twine with a name that's dear; 
The name of one that's sainted now, 
The nymph, who heard mine earliest vow. 
With moistened eye, and sunny brow, 
And listening ear I 

But where are now those happy years, 
Too blest to last, which time endears, 

And faithful hearts embalm ? 
Those years, the mirthful and the free, 
Alas ! are lost for aye to me — 
Lost in the Past, the dark Dead Sea, 
Where all is calm! 



38 HAUNTS OF CHILDHOOD. 

Yet, o'er that sea will ever flow 
Heart-touching whispers, sweet and low, 

Ay, sanctified to him 
"Who loves the past, yet hails afar 
The seraph, Hope, on azure car, 
Bearing her lamp, a twinkling star, 
Twinkling, though dim I 



WHO IS SHE? 

THEY say she's the Belle of the town, 
If you doubt it I'll wage you a crown, 

That ere long you will rue it I 
When you meet her, beware I for she can. 
If she choose, charm a sensible man, 

'Tis so pleasant to do it — 
Hal ha I 'tis so pleasant to do it I 

With the blush of the rose on her cheek, 
She affects to be modest and meek. 

Ay, I fear you will rue it ; 
With the lightning of her dark blue eye, 
She has slain her thousands very nigh, 

'Tis so pleasant to do it — 

Ha! ha! 'tis so pleasant to do it! 

39 



40 WHO IS SHE ? 

When she flings to the zephyr the fold 
Of her scarf, with its purple and gold, 

gaze not, or you'll rue it I 
Like a seraph just dropped from the skies. 
She flutters — to attract roving eyes, 

'Tis so pleasant to do it — 
Hal ha I 'tis so pleasant to do it! 

You may meet her whenever you please, 
At the rout — she's the gem of the squeeze - 

But take care, or you'll rue it! 
She'll catch you in the web of her smile, 
And for mischief she'll tease you awhile, 

'Tis so pleasant to do it — 
Ha I ha ! 'tis so pleasant to do it I 

Though enchanting her wit with its spice, 
Still her heart is as frigid as ice ; 

He who weds her will rue it ! 
So be careful, nor sigh for the bliss, 
Yet you may, if you can, steal a kiss, 

'Tis so pleasant to do it — 
Hal ha I 'tis so pleasant to do it ! 



WHO IS SHE ? 41 

But there's danger in taking a sip 
From tlie dew-drop that moistens her lip, 

Who attempts it will rue it ; 
For in truth she is skilled in her art, 
And she boasts when she breaks a brave heart, 

'Tis so pleasant to do it — 
Ha ! ha ! 'tis so pleasant to do it ? 

She delights to be weaving her snare, 
And to feast on the breath of despair, 

Who disputes it will rue it ! 
Let her flirt till as old as her Aunt, 
Then wish — really wish to wed — and carCt, 

'Tis so pleasant to do it — 
Ha ! ha ! 'tis so pleasant to do it I 



THE VOYAGER. 

When burst that thrilling cry 
Of '* land-ho "I on the voyager's ear, 
With what delight his anxious eye 
Beheld the shadowy mountains lie 

Far in the distance, dim, yet clear I 

A world before him lay 

In all its beauty and its prime, 

With fearless step he led the way, 

And knelt on shore, and blessed the day, 

The most eventful of his time. 

42 



THE VOYAGER. 43 

Freely that golden Land, 
Which gave a tint to all his dreams, 
Yielded to him, with heart and hand, 
Her empire vast, from strand to strand, 

With all her wealth of hills and streams. 

But Nature's children then 
Dreamed not of woes which time revealed ; 
They saw but gods in Europe's men, 
And did them reverence, even when 

Their fate had been forever sealed 

And yet that wiser Power, 
Who guides the destiny of man. 
Had willed a brighter, happier hour, 
To cheer the gloom which seemed to lower 

In darkness o'er his moral plan. 

And with the years which came, 
There came brave men, whose valor won 
For Freedom's Land a glorious name ; 
And on whose altar burns the flame. 

That erst inspired a Washington ! 



44 THE VOYAGER. 

Intenser let it bum — 
The flame that still inspires the free; 
Till man the rights of man shall learn, 
And every bondman home return, 

Rejoicing in his liberty ! 



VIOLETS. 

When Winter departs, how pleasant a thing, 
To greet the violets that herald the Spring, 

The sweet blushing daughters of light, 
Who sip from the silver cups of the dew 
The nectar of heaven, with a smile for you. 
And a smile for me, angelic and true, 

And dear to the heart that is right I 

With many a hallowed, yet magical thought, 

Dreamy and pure as the stars ever wrought 

In their sinless dwellings at eve, 

On the violet's calm and innocent breast, 

Fragrant with airs from the land of the blest, 

There slumbers a spirit taking its rest, 

That never was born to deceive. 

45 



46 VIOLETS. 

'Tis the love that smiles in the violet's eye, 
When mirrored in light it looks to the sky, 

With its trusting bosom exposed ; 
Yet meekly recoils, in its own sweet way, 
When it meets the gaze of the garish day, 
Sweet as the maiden, retiring to pray, 

For him, on whose faith she reposed. 

Stoop to the violets, and read in their eyes. 
How pleasant it is to look to the skies, 

With a trust which none can debar ; 
And learn there's a love that reads, in a tear, 
The woes of the heart, and calms every fear; 
While, beyond the dark vale silent and drear, 

It points you to Bethlehem's star I 



WHAT IS LIFE? 

Life I 'tis a chase 
After bubbles that burst, 
After treasures that rust, 
And in them, though we trust, 

'Tis a vain chase ! 

Life I 'tis a chase. 
Amid dreams that entrance, 
After phantoms that dance, 
After fame — a mere chance; 

'Tis a wild chase I 

47 



48 WHAT IS LIFE? 

Life ! 'tis a chase 
After pleasures that fly, 
Still leaving us to sigh, 
With a tear in our eye ; 

'Tis a sad chase ! 

Life I 'tis a chase, 
'Mid the shadows of night ; 
And though led by the light 
Of a star that is bright, 

'Tis a blind chase I 

Life I 'tis a chase. 
Till the spirit hath cast 
Its mantle to the Past, 
And is folded at last. 

In God's embrace I 



THE FAR WEST. 

WHERE, think ye, is now the West ? 

The far, far West, the land of dreams, 
Whose hills and vales, with virgin breast, 
Still slumber in their ancient rest, 

Lulled by the voice of plaintive streams I 

From Mexico, where airs are bland, 

To Oregon's impetuous flood, 
Already vale and mountain land 
Resound to that advancing band, 

Who proudly boast of Yankee blood ! 



49 



50 THE FAR WEST. 

Nor distant is the day, perchance, 

When yet these sons of valiant sires 
Shall win their way, by love or lance, 
To sunnier climes, and even advance 
Beyond the Equator's solar fires. 

Thus race to race must ever yield, 

And mental power assume the sway ; 
Broad as the earth the ample field, 
For those who trust in virtue's shield, 
And Freedom's banner dare display. 

The far, far West, 'tis Freedom's now. 

The gift of God to earth's oppressed; 
The Land, where all who take the vow, 
No more to king or priest to bow. 

May come, and find their wrongs redressed. 

Ay, there shall happy millions yet 

Reclaim the soil and crowd the mart ; 
Freemen, who thrive by toil and sweat, 
Sprinkling the waste with cities, set 

On hill and plain, like gems of Art. 



THE FAR WEST. 51 

And there, shall thought yet fly afar 
Along the wire from climes remote, 

And blend with thought, like star with star, 

While startling rolls the frantic car, 
And bannered glides the gallant boat. 

And there, unawed, the mind of man, 
Progressive still, shall still aspire ; 

Nor yield to creeds that fear to scan 

The mystic lore of Nature's plan. 
But still, insatiate, aim the higher! 

In sooth, it needs no prophet's eye. 
Westward to Ocean's calmer surge, 

To see the future there outvie 

The ancient world, whose glories lie 
Pillared on Time's receding verge ! 

what, when centuries have rolled, 
Will be this mighty Western Land? 

Her sons — will they be brave and bold, 

And still defend her banner's fold? 
Her holy altars — will they stand ? 



52 THE FAR WEST. 

The link that binds the Sisterhood, 

Say, will it brighten and grow strong. 
And men bear rule, the great and good, 
Who shun dissention, strife and blood, 
Yet cleave to right, nor yield to wrong? 

Pear not I with holier influence yet, 

The years shall come which God ordains ; 

When Freedom's bounds shall not be set. 

Nor man his fellow man forget, 
In blind pursuit of sordid gains I 



VERNAL WHISPERS. 

Born of the blusting Spring, 
Lo, Joy replumes his azure wing I 
With radiant locks the hours advance, 
And violets wake from winter's trance, 
While Beauty smiles, with sunny glance, 

And birds ecstatic sing. 

Against a sky serene, 

The quiet mountains seem to lean; 

While valleys woo, with pure delight, 

The genial sun and dews of night, 

And Hope, with buds of promise bright, 

Embroiders all the scene. 

53 



54 VERNAL WHISPERS. 

The sunsMne and the showers 
Restore to earth her bosom flowers—- 
The queenly rose that's virgin-lipped, 
The lily that in gold is dipped, 
The honey-bell that's oftenest sipped, 

And thyme that never towers. 

And now, from mantled hill, 
And cradled vale, and gushing rill, 
There breathes a music, sweet and long. 
Which melts the soul, like sacred song. 
And purifies the heart that's wrong, 

The whisper small and still ! 

catch, with listening ear. 
The vernal whispers of the year. 
Whose breath, like hope, revives the heart, 
And bids us act a nobler part — 
Nor leave behind a faithless chart. 

When Autumn's leaf is sere ! 



GIVE IIS LiaHT. 

Ay, give us light, more light to cheer 

Our footsteps onward still ; 
Welcome the star, whose bright career 

Doth fling o'er vale and hill 
Light — more Light I 

Methinks I hear the toiling mass, 
Who sweat to pamper pride, 

Whisper, with murmuring lips, "Alas! 

And why are we denied 

Light — more Light 1 " 

55 



56 GIVE us LIGHT. 

list ! how like the startling wave 
That breaks on ocean's shore, 

The voice, that wakes the mental slave, 
Who hardly dares implore 
Light — more Light! 

True men are they, with lips unsealed, 

Men of unfettered mind, 
Who seek the light, as 'tis revealed. 

In Nature's teachings kind, 
Light — more Light! 

Thousands, who still their faith enshroud 

In mystic rites di^'ine. 
Perceive it through the parted cloud. 

Streaming, as from heaven's shrine, 
Light — more Light ! 

While Truth her glorious banner waves 

From high celestial walls. 
Strong men will rise, even from their graves, 

To catch the light that falls ! — 
Light — more Light ! 



THE CLOCK. 



The Clock of Time to music's chime, 

With truthful face and hand, 
Measures the hours, in its high towers, 
'Mid spheres that still expand, 
With truthful face and hand ! 

And as you trace upon its face 
The stars that mark the year, 

Its chiming knell, like sorrow's spell, 

Oft wakes a saddening tear, 

'Mid stars that mark the year ! 

57 



58 THE CLOCK. 

It tells with power the final hour 
Of joy, and mirth, and grief; 

And thousands read, with hearts that bleed, 
Their last, last moments brief, 
Of joy, and mirth, and grief I 

It counts the days, and speaks the praise 
Of life, and deeds we do ; 

And in the sky, with faithful eye. 
It notes whate'er is true 
Of life, and deeds we do. 

When dies its chime, the last of time, 
And stars are veiled in night; 

Why need we fear to leave earth's sphere, 
So we have lived aright, 
Though stars are veiled in night? 



WARREN'S APPEAL. 

[at bunker hill.] 

Comrades ! they come, 
The invaders, fierce and strong ; 
Hear ye that trump and drum ? 
They come to do us wrong ! 
Shall we to tyrant power succumb? 

No ! — calm and still. 

Await the advancing foe ; 

And then, with iron will, 

Deal death at every blow, 

And wrap in lurid flame the Hill ! 



59 



60 warren's appeal. 

Forsake it not — 
The standard of the free ! 
Nor let dishonor blot 
Its matchless chivalry; 
Where'er it waves, defend the spot I 

Our country — wives — 
And children — the strong ties, 
That bind us, hearts and lives, 
Demand that we despise 
Danger and death, while hope survives ! 

Eather than yield. 
Let us resolve to die 
Upon the battle-field. 
Trusting to God on high. 
Who is our buckler and our shield I 



S|e Ppttrg 0f fife. 



THE MYSTERY OF LIFE. 



What though we trace our emanation far 

Beyond the bounds of earth, the eldest star 

May be our junior I Ask, nor dare to scan 

What was, ere uncreated Mind began — 

Yet unbegun — when heaven itself was dark. 

When all was void, and life's ethereal spark 

Eemained unstruck; nor gaze beyond the verge, 

Where thought expires, and silence breathes a dirge ! 

63 



64 



THE MYSTERY OF LIFE. 



Though vain the task, who would not still explore 
The unrevealed in Nature — Nature's lore — 
Her prone affinities — and plastic forms — 
The atom's shape — and vital spark that warms 
Insensate clay to life — and even that part 
Which cannot die, the moral sense, the heart? 

Yet when we yield what sure we must, the breath, 
With this, our earth-born shape, why call it death ? 
Or why that crisis view with solemn awe, 
The expiring hour ordained by Nature's law — 
Man's last yet glorious birth to life that's higher, 
Where love abounds, and pure his soul's desire ? 

Whate'er the truth, one truth is clear, we know, 
That Nature wills our weal, but ne'er our wo ; 
Nor, from her holy fount of life and light. 
Flows aught but justice and eternal right. 
Then wherefore ask, beyond this vale of tears, 
If man be blest, or sink the waif of years ; 
Since life, whate'er its form, whate'er its sphere. 
Survives all change, nor stays its bright career. 



THE MYSTERY OF LIFE. 65 

This planet, Earth, whereon we strive and die, 
Compared with mightier orbs that gem the sky, 
What is it — but a sunbeam's floating mote ? 
And what, among the spheres, its lowly note ? 
And what are systems, with their central sun, 
But chandeliers, which He, the viewless One, 
Suspends in space, to light His Palace Halls, 
And hallowed Courts that glow with sapphire walls? 
Though sternly just, how kind that mighty Power, 
Who guides the spheres, yet stoops to tint the flower ; 
Whose fearful works, from atom up to star, 
From star to sun, still blended as they are, 
In bright infinitude, bewilder thought ; 
Yet teach us to be humble, as we ought I 

say, ye wise, do thoughts a few or more. 
When congregated, form the inmost core 
Of what is called the soul ? and then do these 
Same thoughts originate just as we please ? 
Or can we think thoughts not our own, and think 
No more ? and must we die, and final sink 



QQ THE MYSTERY OF LIFE. 

For one vile thought, which mental laws procure 
To pass the mind ? of this, what creed is sure ? 
And where are now those thoughts, forgotten all, 
Which once were ours, but which we ne'er recall ? 
Exist they, still combined, or scattered hence ? 
Do they enjoy — or suffer? have they sense? — 
And are we conscious of their present state ? 
If not, what matters it whate'er their fate ? 
And yet the good man's hopes are sacred ties, 
Which never break, connecting earth and skies. 

Whate'er his passions, foibles, or his lust, 
Man is a breathing miracle of dust — 
A puzzle to himself — and yet where lie 
Remotest orbs, he turns a wistful eye I 
Aspiring still, at most, what can he know 
Of life not yet revealed, 'mid stars that glow ? 
Though his an Eden once, it soon became 
A scene of tears — and sin acquired a name; 
But not till crowned with flowers, and at his side, 
Angelic woman smiled, and blushed a bride I 



THE MYSTERY OF LIFE. 67 

Though erst to subtle words Eve lent an ear, 
What woman lists not, when there's news to hear? 
The tempter's arguments, though fraught with guile, 
Why should she sift, or doubt his winning smile ? 
In nice moralities, through want of skill, 
Why dream of aught that in itself was ill ? 
The child of Nature, artless, and sincere, 
Why not still cling to him she held most dear ; 
And ever strive, as woman ever should, 
To please her chosen lord and seek his good ? 

She deemed it fair — that interdicted tree — 

And craved its fruit; to test its quality, 

She ate — and man was doomed to endless wo; 

A truth than fiction stranger still, I trow I 

And since 'twas but an apple — only one — 

That hung matured, and reddened in the sun, 

Adam partook, nor does it seem absurd ; 

Who now that lives, would doubt an angel's word ? 

Enough since man was blest, when fatal lore 

Touched woman's heart with sorrow to the core, 



68 THE MYSTERY OF LIFE. 

And placed her, in her present sphere, alone, 
To cheer the fallen state with love's sweet tone ! 

Though heirs to grief, we struggle to regain 
The treasures of the sky; but ah ! the strain, 
Vfhich Hope, the syren, still pours forth, misleads 
The frantic chase, nor soothes the heart that bleeds ; 
And yet like shadows, aimless, still we flit. 
Perplexed with doubts, nor learn that ills befit, 
On earth, our dark career! 'Tis sweet to think, 
That we may yet be blest, while link by link, 
In Nature's chain we climb, and dimly trace 
Our destiny, and seize, as if by grace, 
Even on celestial joys ; though oft we quake 
'Mid ghostly fears, and wisdom's path forsake. 

When Nature counseleth the heart, we hear 
Reproving whispers ; conscience, or a tear. 
Perhaps, betrays us to ourselves ; and then, 
The world, its pride, its pomp, its fools, its men. 
Pass huddled in review — a painful scene, 
That sickens life ! 'Tis all in vain, I ween, 



THE MYSTERY OF LIFE. 69 

To ponder o'er the fate of human kind; 
All would be happy, yet all will be blind. 

Ah, why do men still seek it as a prize, 
The happiness which dazzles envious eyes ; 
And yet forget the source of moral good, 
The charities of life — least understood ? 
Why penetrate the mountain's rocky side 
For crumbs of gold, or track the ocean wide 
To gather pearls, and, at some future day. 
Expect to bask beneath the sunny ray 
Of earthly bliss; yet die at last the slaves 
Of folly's reign — and fill forgotten graves I 

Forbear the human bosom to unmask, 
The passions prompt us, whatsoe'er we ask; 
And virtue's path, though traced upon a chart, 
We seldom choose, till grief refines the heart. 
Yet Hope links Heaven and earth, and thus, despite 
The human will — unerring Nature's light 
Constrains belief, and teaches that the soul 
Must be immortal; nor can aught control 



70 THE MYSTERY OF LIFE. 

This innate sense. Alas I who would persuade 
Himself, by dint of lore, or logic staid, 
That dark annihilation, cheerless creed, 
Engulfs us all at last — then blots the deed ! 

Though man may seem, with his restricted powers, 
The victim still of fortune's freakish hours ; 
Yet rule he may — and overrule — by thought 
Which still expands, till he himself is wrought 
To more than man I And when, at last, the breath, 
Which he inhales at birth, departs at death, 
He but attains to life — a soul refined. 
That's merged again in elemental Mind; 
And yet, though bred beneath a genial sky, 
How few have learned to live, or learned to die ! 

Say, what and where the mystic realms, which teem 
With shadows, pictured in the passing dream 
Of life — the joys and sorrows of the heart — 
When, from- the scenes that mock us, we depart. 
And rest with patriarchs, and yield to earth 
The gift she gave — all but our moral worth ? 



THE MYSTERY OF LIFE. 71 

Who will, may ever seek, yet never find 
The blest abode which still enchants his mind; 
And yet, in thought that's pure, in love and truth, 
The just still live — live in immortal youth — 
The heritage which still remains, when all 
That man calls power, has failed to disenthral 
His spirit of its weight of silvery years, 
Or wipe, from sightless eyes, life's last sad tears I 

Oft from the darkened past, as from an urn, 
The memories dear of those we loved return, 
And tell of days, and years, and feeling hearts, 
When friendship knew but truth, and love no arts ; 
When joys were pure, and in life's golden sky, 
No darkling cloud arose to blind the eye ; 
When Hope, with smiling brow, inspired the hours, 
And earth but seemed a paradise of flowers. 

When we retrace the dark career of man. 
How oft, to fancy's eye, the shadowy van 
Of heroes, sages, seers, and warriors brave, 
Eepeople earth, and seem to tread the grave 



72 THE MYSTERY OF LIFE. 

Of their own dust, and re-enact the part 
They bore in human strife ; yet leave no chart 
Of empire, whence they came, from Nilus' bank, 
Or Afric's waste, nor what their titled rank. 

Amid the gloom of years, old empires rest, 
And who can say, if they were cursed, or blest? 
The monuments which told, with lettered trust, 
Where slept the great, have crumbled into dust ! 
Perchance the clods, on which we heedless tread, 
Have breathed with life — the ashes of the dead — 
Ashes, which yet shall wake to conscious life, 
And, in the great advancing drama's strife, 
Assume, with new-born joy and purer heart, 
Still higher forms, and play a nobler part ! 
And yet, why doubt, or yield to mystic fear ; 
What Nature wills, Grod wills, a truth that's clear ! 



THE BACHELOR'S REQUEST. 

Give me the heart that's pure and warm, 
Whose virtues constant shine ; 

Give me the soul that's nobly great, 
Yet melts in grief with mine . 

Give me the rosy, blushing cheek, 

The lip without a stain ; 
Give me the meekly pensive eye, 

Whose flash thrills every vein. 



74 THE bachelor's REQEST. 

Give me the sweet, responsive smile, 
Love's sympathy refined ; 

Give me an angel's graceful form, 
An angel's sinless mind. 

Ay, give me nature, spirit, fire, 

A gem of brilliant ray, 
In one, who heeds my every wish, 

Though absolute her sway! 

Give me but woman, thus endowed, 
Whose jewels virtues are; 

And I will worship, like a saint. 
So beautiful a star I 



THE BATTLE OF LAKE ERIE. 

Hovering o'er Erie's waters blue, 
War-ships equipped are seen 

Bearing a bold and boasting crew, 
Led by the Charlotte Queen; 

With ready guns and courage true, 
On pride of power they lean I 

With stately pomp and snowy wing, 
And pennons fluttering gay, 

In battle line they seem to fling 
Defiance on their way; 

Nor dream of woes an hour may bring 
When comes the fearful fray 1 



76 THE BATTLE OF LAKE ERIE. 

Lol Perry now that fleet descries, 

And, like a tempest dire, 
'Neath stars and stripes, and favoring skies, 

Assails with sheeted fire 
The haughty foe, who dared despise 

The Yankees — and their ire I 

And now, as maddening volleys rave, 
Though Perry's Flag-ship reels, 

'Neath fire and smoke, with hand to save. 
From ship to ship he steals ; 

And now the fate of Britons brave 
With one broadside he seals ! 

And deep their decks were crimsoned o'er. 

Swept by that iron hail ; 
And as the last gun boomed to shore ,- 

'Mid shouts and saddening wail. 
Glad news to anxious hearts it bore, 

Afar on every gale I 



THE BATTLE OF LAKE ERIE. 77 

Honor to him, who fought to break 

The grasp of sceptred pride; 
The Hero, whose brave deeds awake, 

Within the heart's glad tide, 
Proud memories, now with Erie's Lake 

And Perry's name allied. 



THE AGED BEGGAR. 

I SAW him with locks of gray, 

And trembling limb, 
Still groping his weary way; 

His eye was dim. 

He thought of his home afar, 

And skyward gazed, 
And clearly saw a bright star 

That o'er him blazed. 



78 



THE AGED BEGGAR. 79 

And gazing, as through a cloud, 

In silent prayer, 
He said, as he passed the crowd, 
" Pm almost there ! " 

Still wandering, he asked for bread, 

But hardly dare 
Expect it — and reverent said, 
" I'm almost there " ! 

But the crowd heeded him not. 

Nor lent an ear ; 
And the Beggar died forgot. 

Nor fell a tear ! — 

How few of the world's great mass 

A thought have given 
To the lone and tried, who pass 

From earth to heaven I 



LAURA. 

The moment his leave he had taken, 

She flew from the parlor in haste, 
Nervous as an aspen that'KS shaken, 

With a secret much to her taste. 
Oh, what is the matter, my dear. 

Cried the mother , pale with affright. 
And Laura began to look queer — 

And to stammer, blushing outright! 



80 



LAURA. 



81 



Frank asked me — I did not expect it — 

The '' question " — I thought I should faint! 
Such an offer — - can I reject it ? — 

'Tis enough to puzzle a saint ! 
How shall I determine his case ? 

'Tis true, that I love him too well ; 
But they say that I've a sweet face ; 

You know I'm considered the belle ! 

Besides, there are forty or more, 

With whom it is pleasant to flirt; 
And they all profess to adore — 

Would kiss even the hem of my skirt I 
After all — oh, what's to be done ? 

I declare I hardly can speak . 
I'll tell him I thought him in fun, 

When he calls to see me next week ! 

But I fear that never will do — 
His manner was frank and sincere ; 

An answer that's candid is due, 
And yet it will cost me a tear I 



82 LAURA. 

Let me think — I think I'll say **No "— 
With Harry I love to play chess ; 

Yet my hand were I to bestow, 
A fopling it never should bless ! 

As to Frank, I'll treat him the same, 

And perhaps I'll wed him at last ; 
But to me the married seem tame, 

And the smitten — oh dear I — how fast I 
While yet in the morning of life, 

I'll still be a butterfly gay; 
When I choose I'll then be a wife, 

Dozens I might marry to-day ! 

And then, with a toss of her head, 

She made up her mind in a hurry ; 
Frank called — and began to look red — 

Yet Laura, although in a flurry, 
Received him, of course, with a smile ; 

Then talked of the last evening's rout ; 
But Frank, after listening awhile, 

Besolved to remove the last doubt ! 



LAURA. 83 

But still she persisted in talking 

Of the rout, the fashions, the dance ; 
While Franli, as he rose to be walking, 

Still lingered, half lost in a trance ; 
When, wreathing her lip to say " No " — 

Somehow, with exquisite address. 
She softened the word in its flow. 

And, lisping, replied to him — '' Yes " I 



WORSHIP. 

Alone, at hush of night, 
Go forth, and in the light 
Of stars that silently unveil 
Their beauty, kneel ere hope shall fail. 
All fears and sorrows cast 
Back on the darkened past; 
And there, at Nature's hallowed shrine. 
Oft bow, and share her love divine. 
Go forth, and, with pure thought, 
Thus learn that tears are wrought 
To smiles — in that abiding trust. 
Which lifts to Heaven, the good, the just I 



84 



CUBA. 

Isle of a summer sea, 

Fragrant with Eden's flowers, 
God meant thee to be free, 

And wills thee to be ours! 

The blood of generous hearts 
Has freely drenched thy soil ; 

That blood but strength imparts, 
Which tyrants cannot foil I 



85 



86 CUBA. 

Within thy fair retreat, 
'Mid victory and flame, 

Thy sons shall yet repeat 
Huzzas in Freedom's name I 

Yes, where his ashes rest, 
Whose eye revealed a world, 

From towers and mountain crest, 
Our flag shall be unfurled I 

In truth, it is but just. 

That Freedom's hand should hold, 
Confided to her trust. 

The key to lands of gold I 



SUMMER. 

Lo I SuMMEPu serenely advances, 

Clad in the raiment of the sun ; 
While the zephyrs weave their light dances 

In the vales where the rivulets run; 
And notes from the woodland soothingly steal 
The heart that is wounded, never to heal. 

When alone, in the sylvan bower, 
Communion with Nature how sweet I 

Her whispers and smiles have the power, 
Amid flowers that gem her retreat. 

To recall the bright visions which have flown, 

And wake in the ^oul a heaven of its own. 

87 



88 SUMMER. 

Though Summer, ere long, with her pleasures, 
Must yield to the cold winter blast, 

And we, who are fed from the treasures 
Of her breast, all perish at last ; 

Yet Hope, still prophetic, points to the sky, 

Of the future, with a bright sparkling eye. 



^Mstral lortrails. 



c? 



ANCESTRAL PORTRAITS. 

With all their virtues plain and stern, 
The good old times have sped ; 

And now the wisdom which we learn, 
Turns giddy every head ; 

And yet 'tis wrong, I ween, to spurn 
Our old ancestral dead ! 

Our Pilgrim sires were taught of God, 
And solemn psalms they sung; 

They trained their children with the rod, 
And witch and wizard hung ! 

Yet, if they erred — 'tis nothing odd — 
All err — both old and young ! 



91 



92 ANCESTRAL PORTRAITS. 

They earned by toil whate'er they had, 

Since Heaven ordained it so ; 
Nor with the fashions went they mad, 

Nor cramped they waist or toe ; 
Nor, like the lily, pale and sad. 

Looked every belle and beau ! 

The girls were taught to spin and weave, 

The boys to hold the plough ; 
'Twas then thought wise — and I believe 

As wise it might be now, 
If people would their scheming leave, 

And live by sweat of brow. 

The good old times were good enough, 
Though times more polished dawn ; 

Men then were made of sterner stuff. 
Than those that now are born ; 

Though plain they were and somewhat rough, 
Yet why their virtues scorn ? 



ANCESTRAL PORTRAITS. 93 

In groups that grace the parlor wall, 

How pleasant still to see 
The dear old portraits, which recall 

Our honored ancestry ; 
Grand parents, uncles, aunts and all, 

Who danced us on the knee I 

Oh yes I I still remember well 

My Grandsire's aged look, 
The witching tales he deigned to tell, 

And how, from sacred Book, 
He oft explained why Adam fell, 

And man the right forsook I 

He used to wear a broad-brimmed hat, 

A buckle gemmed each knee ; 
The old arm-chair in which he sat, 

It cheers me still to see ; 
With powdered wig and queue, all that, 

None looked so grave as he. 



94 ANCESTRAL PORTRAITS. 

His was a high and manly brow, 

With locks of silver gray ; 
He ne'er to Britain's pride would bow, 

Nor for her king even pray ; 
Nor would he yield, like statesmen now. 

His principles for pay ! 

But strong of limb, and brave at heart, 

He swung a brawny arm ; 
And promptly bore a hero's part 

'Mid danger and alarm ; 
And though oft pierced by sorrow's dart, 

His manner still was calm. 

He loved to tell his history o'er, 
And speak of war's dread crimes ; 

And of the deeds he did of yore. 
Which beat all modern times I 

His worldly goods he left in store. 
All heirs could ask, save dimes I 



ANCESTRAL PORTRAITS. 95 

Though poor, he was a patriot true, 

Had fought in Freedom's cause ; 
And all he owed he paid when due, 

His debt to Nature's laws ; 
In fact, from earth have passed but few, 

With heart as free from flaws. 

If *midst old graves you choose to tramp. 

You still may read in print, 
Upon his head-stone cold and damp, 
This brief, yet truthful hint — 
"Here lies a man of Nature's stamp, 
The coinage of her mint "I — 

But what of her who wore a cap, 

And hoop to swell her skirt ; 
Dear Grandam, who, with many a chap. 

When young, inclined to flirt; 
And even in age, whate'er might hap. 

Seemed girlish, prim and pert I 



ANCESTRAL PORTRAITS. 

Though seeming gay, she used to read 

Her Bible with delight, 
And deeply felt that mortals need 

God's grace to keep them right; 
Always with heart that seemed to bleed, 

She said her prayers at night I 

She led a life none need despise, 

Affectionate and kind ; 
And under holy guidance wise. 

Her duty sought to find ; 
And oft relieved, with pitying eyes, 

The poor, the halt, the blind. 

"When very old, her length of nose 
Hung sword-like o'er her chin ; 

Yet she was cheerful to life's close. 
Though but a shadow thin ; 

Oft rocked my cradle, I suppose. 
And loved to knit and spin. 



ANCESTRAL PORTRAITS. 97 

The most I recollect of her, 

Is how she used to try, 
With pointed thread half lost in blur, 

To hit her needle's eye; 
And though vexations would occur, 

She ne'er indulged a sigh. 

The good old lady has been dead 

Some thirty years at least ; 
The stone is carved that guards her head, 

With cherubs gazing East ; 
And where she sleeps but few now tread, 

The worm has had its feast ! — 

Uncle, who was an only son, 

For riches never toiled ; 
Though he in youth loved mirth and fun, 

And sports that oft recoiled, 
Yet what was wrong he aimed to shun, 

And ne'er his morals soiled. 



98 ANCESTRAL PORTRAITS. 

But when parental power had lost 

O'er him its kind control, 
He rarely stopped to count the cost, 

The worth of time or soul ; 
But onward floated, tempest-tost, 

Where'er life's wave might roll ! 

His head with many a vision swam. 
The world he longed to see ; 

Or Greenland's isle, or land of Ham, 
It mattered not, so he 

No longer tethered like the lamb. 
Could rove, unchecked and free. 

Ere twenty-one, most foreign lands, 
'Tis said that he had seen ; 

Though fearful still of wedlock's bands. 
At forty, as I ween, 

He sometimes thought of joining hands ; 
What did the fellow mean ? 



ANCESTRAL PORTRAITS. 

However strange, the truth to say, 

Love's vow at last he made, 
And sealed it, too, one eve in May, 

With her who graced the glade ; 
And ever, from that happy day, 

He led a life that's staid. 

Whate'er may be by prudes required. 

Who join in nuptial state ; 
He proved the model man desired, 

And she the loving mate ; 
And blest of heaven, they ne'er grew tired 

Of *' little cares" or great ! — 

If half they say of Aunt be true. 
Her- youthful charms were rare ; 

Her teeth were pearl, her eyes were blue. 
And auburn was her hair ; 

Her lip a rose-bud, bathed in dew, 
Her brow, angelic, fair. 



99 



100 ANCESTRAL PORTRAITS. 

Never had maid a prettier hand, 

Or daintier foot than she ; 
Nor rosier cheek had zephyr fanned, 

Than hers, as all agree ; 
Her smile was like a seraph's, bland, 

Her footstep, light, and free. 

With thumb and finger, you would think 
Her waist that you could span ; 

She knew just when 'twould do to wink. 
Or smile, behind her fan ; 

Ay, hers were charms, whose magic link 
'Twas hard to break, young man ! 

She dreamed of one — an idle dream — 
"Whose look her fancy pleased ; 

Though but a dream, she did not seem 
By his indijBference teased; 

But cluDg to hope, till hope's last gleam 
Had left her heart diseased! 



ANCESTRAL PORTRAITS. 101 

When rouge supplants the artless rose, 

And life's a wintery sea, 
None but an ancient maiden knows 

How pleasant it must be, 
To hear a gentleman propose, 

And see him bend the knee! 

Ah, who can tell with what desire, 
Aunt wished her years were stayed ; 

When youth had lost its subtle fire. 
And charms began to fade ; 

Whose doom it was, at last, to expire 
A lily in the shade I — 

Thus they, even all of that dear throng, 
Who cheered the ancestral hearth, 

When I was young, and love was strong. 
And pure as flowers at birth, 

Have trod the ** perilous way" that's long, 
Nor more v/ill visit earth. 



102 ANCESTRAL PORTRAITS. 

When I return to earth's dull mould, 
Perhaps some kindred dear 

Will smile to hear my foibles told, 
And think my portrait queer ; 

Nor matters it, if when unrolled, 
Life's record still be clear. 



A WORD TO THE WISE. 

Ye Sovereigns of the Land, 
Why will ye not be taught, 

To take a firmer stand — 
"The sober second thought." 

Reflect, nor yield the palm 
To men who can be bought ; 

Oh I take in time the alarm — 
** The sober second thought." 



103 



104 A WORD TO THE WISE. 

For Freedom and for Right, 

Our Fathers bravely fought; 
Their guide by day and night — 
" The sober second thought." 

Shall we, their sons, allow 

That chains for us be wrought, 
Nor take, like wise men, now, 
''The sober second thought." 

Why not, at once, forsake 

The faithless, as we ought. 
And give them time to take 
*' The sober second thought." 

When will the good and great, 
Alone for place be sought ? 

Best take, ye Heads of State, 
" The sober second thought I " 



A WORD TO THE WISE. 105 

It strews with flowers life's path, 
That's aye with dangers fraught, 

And even averts Heaven's wrath — 
** The sober second thought I" 



A CONCEIT. 

Old Father Time, with nod sublime, 

And hammer in his hand, 
Subjects to sale things new and stale, 

Through all the earth's broad land, 

With hammer in his hand I 

He finds a buyer to his desire, 

Who never fails to bid; 
The first and last, the craving Past, 

Who keeps his treasures hid; 

Yet never fails to bid. 

106 



A CONCEIT. 107 

Go, take your stand at his right hand, 

And hear him cry the sale; 
He speaks in tones that shatter thrones, 

Nor lists to those who wail; 

Ah, hear him cry the salel 

Before him lies full many a prize, 

In rich array displayed; 
Yes, all that's dear to mortals here, 

Of life, its light, and shade, 

In rich array displayed. 

He breaks life's spell, nor grieves to sell 

Fond hopes to which we cling; 
Honor and fame, and wealth and name, 

Vain things — what will they bring? 

Fond hopes to which we cling I 

The star-lit sky, the love-lit eye, 

The beautiful and true; 
He strikes down all, then flings his pall, 

And screens the world from view, 

The beautiful and true ! — 



108 A CONCEIT. 

Nor does he wait at Heaven's high gate, 

Nor does he shed a tear; 
But breaks the bars, and smites the stars, 

And dark grows every sphere; 

Nor does he shed a tear I 

"All sold" he cries, and now he dies, 

Remembered never more; 
With look downcast, the silent Past, 

In darkness, hides his store; 

Remembered never more ! 



THE OLD CHURCH. 

Oh, spare that sacred fane! 

It has a wide renown; 
And sure ye are insane, 

Who wish to pull it down ! 

Never assail its wall. 
Nor sever heartfelt ties; 

But oftener still recall 

Its teachings, good and wise. 



109 



110 THE OLD CHURCH. 

Ah, had I but the power, 
I'd stay the violent hand, 

That dares prostrate its tower; 
Oh, let that old Church stand ! 

But no! — tis all in vain — 

Old Church, thy doom is sealed I 
Though tears may fall like rain, 
. Thy firmest friends must yield ! 

And yet how sad to see 

Thy sacred walls thrown down 1 

It is a stern decree — 
And well deserves a frown. 

Yet Sabbath hours will bring 
Still back thine organ's peal, 

Which gave my spirit wing, 
And fired my soul with zeal. 



THE OLD CHURCH. Ill 

Blest hours, when crowds drew near, 

And, at thine altar's side, 
Worshiped with hearts sincere, 

Nor cherished worldly pride I 

Though on thy ruins rise 

A prouder pile than thine ; 
Yet towers, that reach the skies, 

Can ne'er restore thy shrine. 

Their grief they deeply feel, 
Who hear no more thy bell; 
Tried friends, who sought thy weal, 
And bid thee now farewell I 



MONTICELLO. 

Seat of the Patriot, Statesman, Sage, 
How changed are now thy classic halls ! 

Proud relic of a sterner Age, 

Methinks, still floating o'er thy walls, 

On that blue-tinted hill, I dimly see 

The spangled banner of the brave and free ! 

And as I gaze with raptured soul, 

The vision brightens, and grows clear; 

And now appears, with pen and scroll, 
The hovering spirit of the seer, 

Who traced in lines of light his thoughts inspired — 

Even Freedom's creed, which many a soul hath fired I 

112 



MONTICELLO. 113 

And on his brow, with wreaths entwined, 
There rests a calm and hallowed light; 

A light that speaks the godlike mind, 

Which oft, like fire from mountain height, 

Flashed far and wide, and, with electric stroke, 

The slumbering tyrants of the world awoke I 

The free-born thoughts, which lay concealed 

Within his breast, and in his plan. 
Begat high hopes, when thus revealed, 

And bred a higher faith in man! — 
Nor can our Country boast a prouder name. 
Than Jefi'erson's, upon her scroll of fame I 



THE LAST DAY OF THE YEAR. 

Lo, the Year now Retires, 
The Old Year, like a monarch from his throne; 
And, fated, he sinks, unwept and alone, 

To the grave of his sires ! 

Yet he bears in his hand 

A scroll of sweet memories, traced with a tear ; 

Thoughts which come back to the heart, like a seer, 

From the dark Silent Land I 

114 



THE LAST DAY OF THE YEAR. 116 

The lessons of his reign 
Still let us cherish, though summoned to part 
With friends whom we loved, the wealth of the heart, 

In the vale of the slain I 

'Neath a sky overcast, 
We, too, must tread the dark valley in turn ; 
Thus Destiny yields, prophetic and stern. 

All that live, to the Past I 

Yet we sigh for the years. 
Which Hope has begemmed with promises bright, 
And wait, though they come not, save with the night 

Of the grave, and with tears ! 



FLOATING ALONG. 

On the ocean of life, 

With a lovely young wife, 
And a bark that is trim and strong, 

He departs, while the ray 

Of a star lights his way. 
Pleasantly, pleasantly, floating along.. 

I see him, nor forget 

That I love him, even yet. 
Though forsaken I'm left with the throng; 

Ah, the promise he made, 

In my heart I had laid. 
Trustingly, trustingly, floating along ! 



116 



FLOATING ALONG. 117 

In the light of a smile, 

Let him seek the bright isle, 
Where life ever glides like a song; 

Yet methinks he will quake 

At the cloud in his wake, 
Fearfully, fearfully, floating along ! 

Let him go, let him go, 

I'll dismiss every wo, 
Indeed, I forgive him the wrong; 

Since I now am the bride 

Of the knight at my side, 
Happily, happily, floating along I 



"THE AREA OF FREEDOM." 

Give Freedom space, more space, 
Her proud domain extend; 

But ne'er a step retrace, 
Her blood-bought soil defend. 

Space for the brave, more space, 

O'er continent and sea; 

Send forth Columbia's race, 

Her sons of liberty. 

118 



"the area of freedom." 119 

Space for her eaglets, space, 

In other climes to soar — 
Soar in the sun's bright face, 

Heralds from every shore. 



Space for her banner, space, 
On every breeze to float, 

While tyrants trembling trace 
Their fate, not far remote ! 



t 



Space for the slave, more space, 
To breathe, and act the man; 

Ay, yield him to his place. 
Back to his clime and clan. 

Give Freedom space, more space; 

Her heaven-born sway extend 
To every clime, and race; 

For God is Freedom's Friend ! 



TO A POETESS. 



Swan of the sweet and pensive song, 

Forgive this proffered lay; 
Though envied by a rival throng, 

Aspire ! and win thy way 
To every heart that loves delight. 

Traced on the scroll of fame, 

Already thine 's a name, 
That brightening sheds a stellar light ! 

120 



TO A POETESS. 121 

Fear not I but trust to bolder wing, 

And, in a trackless sky, 
Ascend 'mid stars, whose anthems fling 

Still back a sweet reply I 
Aspire I and from the treasured past, 

Still gather many a gem, 

To enrich thy diadem, 
And pour thy strains, and they shall last. 

Yes, warbler of our Western Land, 

The destiny is thine, 
Among the gifted few to stand, 

A favorite of the Nine. 
Aspire ! and o'er time's ocean tide, 

Still loftier strike thy lyre; 

Strike it, with soul of fire. 
To notes that wake a Nation's pride ! 



TACIT LANGUAGE. 

When eye for eye is glancing, 

Oft deep emotions rise, 
Entwined with thoughts entrancing, 

Whose memory never dies! 

When sigh for sigh is heaving, 

Oft joy with grief is blent; 

But when fond hopes are leaving, 

How sad the heart's lament I 

122 



TACIT LANGUAGE. 123 

When smile for smile is lighting 

The fair angelic brow, 
On lips that seem inviting, 

Who would not seal his vow ? 

When tear for tear is flowing, 

Its light full oft reveals 
A cherished love that's glowing, 

Which still the lip conceals I 

When heart for heart is beating, 

Its language must be true; 
The heart cannot be cheating, 

That only beats for you ! 



THE RAINBOW. 

How beautiful to wondering eyes, 

The Rainbow's flame, 
That spans the earth and tints the skies, 

With meaning aim ; 
Enriched with more than Tyrian dyes I 

How like bright hopes its glories shine, 

Distant, yet nigh; 
Its woven hues, how divine I 

Though doomed to die 

In fitful mood, like hopes of mine. 

124 



THE RAINBOW. 125 

And yet, within the heavenly gate, 

Its smiles invite 
Earth's weary pilgrim, child of fate, 

To share the light. 
Which death nor gloom can dissipate. 

It cheers the faith to which we cling, 

Faith in the dream 
Of life, and in the hopes that fling 

Earthward a gleam 
Of light, like flash of angePs wing. 

Emblem of love and power untold, 

It decks His brow, 
Who doth the skies about Him fold. 

Keeping His vow, 
The same forever — as of old I 



i>^t fanir of Jfnebom^ 



THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 



Ah, who recalls the dark unhallowed deeds, 

Which mark the sterner ages long gone by, 

Nor starts at wrongs o'er which the heart still bleeds, 

When despots reigned, and bade their victims die, 

And vainly flowed the tear from Pity's eye I — 

Though ours an age that's brighter, happier far. 

Yet half mankind still bow, they know not why, 

To sceptred power, or creeds they dare not mar ; 

Nor yet perceive the light that's flung from Freedom's star! 

129 



180 THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 

II. 

But why despair ? there lives a spark divine 
Within man's breast, derived from holier spheres ; 
And where the moral virtues rear their shrine, 
There heart to heart the social tie endears ; 
While Hope, the rainbow that illumes our years. 
Inspires, with loftier aims, and nobler zeal. 
The faith that's pure, though born of blood and tears, 
And nerves the arm to strike, 'mid clashing steel, 
For God and truth, though empires to their centres reel! 

III. 
With smiling brow, and lip that breathes of peace. 
Prom Eden's sheltering bowers, nymph-like, she came, 
Nor found a genial clime, until in Greece 
She there of yore enshrined her glorious name, 
Freedom, whose pilgrimage is still of fame ; 
And 'neath whose banner heroes fought and bled, 
Hurling the tyrants down to dust and shame, 
Who scourged the land in which the Arts were bred, 
And in whose classic vales repose the mighty dead ! 



THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 



131 



IV. 

In that illustrious age when Athens shone, 
And men the powers of earth and air adored, 
There breathed a martial spirit, now unknown, 
And long, with undipped wing, that spirit soared. 
While human breasts with high resolves were stored, 
And valiant deeds were done of great renown I 
An age in which mankind preferred the sword. 
And heroes strove to cleave stern heroes down, 
To appease revengeful gods, who swayed by smile or frown. 

V. 

Then came an age as sparkling as its wine, 
With mysteries, which took the form of creeds ; 
And vows were paid at many an honored shrine. 
While passion swayed the heart, and moral weeds, 
Like noxious plants that broadcast sow their seeds, 
Struck deep in genial soil, and ranklier grew; 
Yet gods conversed with men, and Faith, that heeds 
The marvelous, believed, howe'er untrue. 
The dark responses which, from unseen lips, she drew ! 



132 THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 

VI. 

Temples, from heights revered, overlooked the plain, 
And patient Art, endowed with magic powers, 
Even gave to Parian marble life and brain, 
And sympathies, which link the circling hours 
Of time with classic beauty and with flowers ; 
Symbols, which still attract our wondering eyes, 
And still recall the listening groves and bowers. 
Where sages calmly walked in humble guise, 
And held discourse with youth and taught them to be wise. 

VII. 

And when, at last, the spirit of the Greek 
Broke from its bound of templed hills and vales. 
It left upon the plain and mountain peak 
Of other lands its trace ; and on the gales 
vSent forth a power which will, till blight assails 
The earth, expand, and chasten human thought ; 
And yet how saddening to the heart the wails, 
Uttered of old, when cruel deeds were wrought, 
.\iid tyrants gave command, and faith was sold and bought I 



THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 138 

VIII. 

Yet he, who aimed at empire, ne'er had dreamed, 
When Rome's foundations were by him begun, 
What lasting glory o'er him distant streamed, 
The while his warlike deeds were nobly done. 
And stratagem the Sabine women won I 
But when the City, from her throne of hills. 
Beheld her fire-eyed eagles pierce the sun, " 

She seized on power that does whate'er it wills, 
Nor kept her plighted faith, nor heeded human ills. 

IX. 

Still, in her better days, stern men were bred. 
Patriots, who loved their country but too well ; 
And who, unawed, the flame of freedom fed, 
Till Luxury and Vice with conquering spell 
Crept in, and fearful woes the State befel ! 
And yet proud Rome survives; still proud, though shorn 
Of ancient power, her name and fame to tell ; 
While, 'mid her ruins, shadows stalk forlorn, 
ind point at her degenerate sons, with silent scorn I 



134 



THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 



X. 

Alas! with all his pride, and pomp, and power, 
The law of love, nor Greek nor Eoman knew ; 
Though martial glory crowned his triumph hour, 
'Mid trophies which attracted public view; 
Though oft proclaimed a hero, matchless, too ; 
'Twas not enough ; for his ambition's aim 
Still fired his soul, as still the sword he drew; 
And thus led on by that enchantress. Fame, 
He sought to rank with gods, ^nd craved a deathless name. 

XI. 

Freedom, whose cradle was the fearful storm^ 
As ages rolled and darkness slow retired. 
Maintained her faith, and with affections warm. 
Became at length of holier truths inspired. 
And clad in sacred armor never tired; 
But still, with frenzied eye, and proud disdain. 
Repelled her foes, who were of tyrants sired ; 
Nor from her shield erased the crimson stain. 
But wide, and wider still, extended her domain. 



THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 135 

XII. 

And men grew wiser — better — as the fiame 
On Freedom's altar burned with. clearer light, 
And though dark years with darker errors came, 
And fierce crusades, with hate and venom'd spite ; 
Though many a hero, mail-clad, fell in fight ; 
Yet Christian temples rose to bless the land, 
While truth prevailed by force of moral might, 
And, as the slumbering fires of faith were fanned, 
Even mitred priest, at last, relaxed his grasping hand I 

XIII. 

And moral heroes, weaned from mystic fear, 
Flung off disguise, and strove with iron will. 
Their favorite creeds to herald far and near; 
Yet strife begat but strife, with woes that chill 
The manliest heart, 'mid scenes of glen and hill, 
Where many a martyr, rash in conflict, fell. 
And, tinged with crimson, flowed the mountain rill ; 
And where, 'mid desolation's brooding spell, 
The spirit of the past, still ruthless, seems to dwell. 



136 THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 

XIV. 

'Twas thus, in proudest lands of earlier time, 
When Freedom held, at best, imperfect sway, 
That seeds were sown, which yet, in every clime, 
Will spring to life, as dawns the genial day, 
When kings retire, and slavish creeds give way I 
But when o'er Ocean sailed Genoa's son. 
Who then foresaw results ? Or who can say. 
What yet will be to man the blessings won, 
When brighter years shall in their destined circles run ? 

XV. 

What though, in later times, the queenly Isle, 
That jealous Mistress of the treasured sea. 
Assumed an unrelenting power the while. 
And bade her subjects bend a suppliant knee ; 
What though she did not leave opinions free ; 
There lived stern men, even then, an honest few, 
Who, taught by conscience, ever scorned to be 
The dupes of royal pride ; their rights they knew ; 
Nor would they yield them 'neath their own dear skies of blue. 



THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 137 

XVI. 

The Puritans, so called, with meaning sneer, 
Had struggled long, and daringly, though vain, 
Against the sceptre's scourge, nor ceased they here ; 
For Hope had flung her rainbow o'er the main, 
And pointed to a land without a stain ! — 
But still the pure affections of the heart 
Endeared to them the mountain and the plain, 
Their native clime, from which 'twas hard to part, 
And leave their fathers' graves for wilds where terrors start I 

XVII. 

Yet when deep sense of wrong hath nerved the arm. 
And stirred the soul, and waked the spirit there. 
Men break their chains ; nor can the tyrant calm 
The rising storm, or curb the brave, who dare 
Defend their dearest rights with bosoms bare I 
Oppression's power, though gray with years, must yield 
To stern reform — and all mankind yet share 
The freeman's boon; and they, whose hearts are steeled, 
Relent and list to woes, deep-felt, though unrevealed ! 



138 THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 

XVIII. 

The Pilgrims now convened on ocean's strand, 
And knelt to Heaven, yet lingered long to gaze 
On friends and skies they loved, like Israel's band. 
Whose pathway was the sea in ancient days. 
The parting hour had come I — beneath the blaze 
Of Autumn's sun, they bade a last farewell 
To Britain's Isle, and launched, without amaze, 
Upon the billowy deep, where dangers dwell. 
And spread their sails to winds that sighed o'er ocean's swell. 

XIX. 

** Westward the star of empire takes its way," 
Destined to glow within a broader sky. 
And flash with light, which yet shall fling its ray 
Afar o'er earth's domain where shadows lie. 
Inspiring joy and hope that will not die ! — 
Yes, with a faith, which gave them faith in man, 
Heroes, upon that star, now fixed their eye. 
And, in the future, saw the God-like plan. 
Which God himself had traced, as on they led the van ! 



THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 139 

XX. 

Hope gave them cheer, and "waved her golden hair," • 
Onward the voyagers ploughed the trackless sea, 
'Mid storm and tempest and the lightning's glare, 
Resolved to bend to none but God the knee ; 
And, after many days, they joyed to see 
Columbia's hills — nor yielded to the shock, 
When woodlands rang with shouts of savage glee ; 
But calm and trustful still, that Pilgrim flock 
Now disembarked, and consecrated Plymouth Rock I 

XXI. 

The Rock, that's firmly planted by the sea, 
Prescribing bounds where proudest waves are stayed, 
The land-mark, which was set to Liberty, 
When earth's foundations broad and deep were laid ; 
The Rock, on which erst stepped the Pilgrim maid, ^ 
Who led the way with smiles that ever cheer; 
The spot, that's guarded still by Freedom's blade. 
Where oft the patriot drops a grateful tear. 
And breathes the honored names of those who slumber near! 



140 THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 

XXII. 

Names that will live when centuries depart, 
And still in moral virtae faith inspire, 
And back to many a patriot's throbbing heart, 
Respond with balmy lip, as child to sire, 
Waking within the soul the hallowed fire 
That ever prompts the brave, who dare reclaim 
Their heaven-born rights, despite the tyrant's ire I 
'Twas here the Pilgrims reared, with purest aim. 
Altars to God, and lit them up with Freedom's flame I 

XXIII. 

And here their homes, the wilds which they beheld ; 
Their temple's space, the earth and open air; 
Their sacred groves, the mystic pines unfelled, 
Their solemn rites, the fervent heartfelt prayer ; 
Enough for them — so Israel's God were there I 
When thoughts are pure, and Nature silent reigns. 
How blest the hour released from toil and care ; 
An hour when angels breathe diviner strains. 
And listening earth rejoices through her wide domains. 



THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 141 

XXIV. 

But when the Pilgrim's steel had rashly spilt 
The red-man's blood, 'twas then that fires were lit 
On mountain peaks, and hearts that never wilt. 
Or yield to tears, were roused to deeds unwrit ; 
'Twas then that dusky warriors, plumed, did sit 
In council, and their rights and wrongs recount, 
And, in their rage, with brows indignant knit, 
Eesolve to drive, beyond the fartherest mount. 
The intruders on their soil, or drain life's crimson fount I 

XXV. 

Though girt with forests, and a mountain chain. 
Whose slopes and glens and secret caverns dark. 
Had ever been the red-man's wild domain. 
The Pilgrims clung to Hope's expiring spark, 
And struggled with their foes, and set the mark 
Of empire there on ocean's circling strand ; 
And, like the chosen few, who left the Ark, 
Went forth to scatter blessings through the land. 
And rear the tree of Liberty, with fostering hand. 



142 THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 

XXVI. 

True to their faith, the Puritans were bold, 
And breathed a spirit, which is destined yet 
To sway the world, and truths still new unfold, 
Commingling elements that ne'er have met, 
And prompting thoughts the world will not forget — 
Great thoughts, and doctrines, too, of human right; 
For they were men, who broke, without regret, 
Through ancient barriers, gifted with a might 
That none can crush, yet guided by celestial light. 

XXVII. 

When Freedom, plumed for glory's bright career. 
Had been restrained, there woke a quenchless flame; 
And men stood forth, unawed by taunt or sneer, 
Who sought the battle-field, and won a name 
That will not die — a proud immortal fame I 
Dread days I when rallying trumph and drum were heard! 
And traitors bore, like Cain, the mark of shame 
Upon their brows — when Britain's ire was stirred, 
And even the patriot's hope seemed hopelessly deferred ! 



THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 143 

XXVIII. 

Yet sentiments that flashed from patriot pen, 
Startled the world, and vexed the royal ear, 
And, like a message sent from heaven to men, 
Illumed in eyes ** unused to weep " the tear ; 
The Immortal scroll, which freemen still revere. 
And all mankind respect — a trust that's thine. 
And mine ; betray it not, nor yield to fear ; 
But still make Freedom's cause a cause divine, 
And ever pure shall burn the flame that lights her shrine. 

XXIX. 

'Twas in those days, that men of iron nerve 
Proved to the world their courage and their worth ; 

I And they were men, whom threats nor gold could swerve 
From duty — Nature's noblemen by birth — 
Who, in defence of life and cherished hearth, 
And altars burning bright with sacred fires. 
Poured out their blood upon the crimsoned earth, 
A free libation to their high desires, 

ind love of right, which, in the true heart, ne'er expires I 



Ii4 THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 

XXX. 

And thougli but few, jet resolute and strong, 
Our banded sires withstood the invading foe, 
And, 'neath their country's banner, struggled long, 
Led on through varied scenes of blood and vfo, 
'Mid battle-smoke and cannon's fiery glow, 
By him whose gallant deeds were ne'er outdone, 
And who, at Yorktown, struck the final blow I 
Glorious as great, the triumph which was won, 
For Man, for Freedom, and the Land of Washington ! 

XXXI. 

Resplendent as the flame that cleaves the cloud. 
Thy banner yet shall flash in every sky, 
Columbia I — yes, as fearless and as proud, 
As were their sires, thy sons, when foes are nigh, 
And conflict comes, shall win the field, or die I 
Sunward thine eagle still shall wing his flight, 
And tyrants read their doom with bitter sigh. 
While Honor, Glory, Fame, with magic might, 
Shall ever fling upon thy brow a hallowed light ! 



THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 145 

XXXII. 

No brighter name than thine, has yet been found 
In History's scroll ; none brighter will be writ. 
Though kings, to empire born, may still be crowned, 
Whose "rights divine " ne'er gave them worth or wit, 
Nor even that sense of right, which makes man fit 
To govern man ; yet, armed with virtue's shield, 
While human hearts in holier ties are knit, 
Still worthier men than kings will rise, and wield 
A juster sway on earth than has been yet revealed ! 

XXXIIl. 

Land of the free I the destiny that's thine, 
Who can predict — or who that lives even dream ? 
And where shall Freedom fix her boundary line, 
In that good time when holier light shall gleam 
As if from heaven, and with its kindling beam 
Illuminate the dark, uncultured mind. 
Wherever found? though bright the future seem, 
Yet errors born of ignorance that's blind, 
nsidious still, will still perchance mislead mankind ! 



146 , THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 

XXXIV. 

For human weal or wo, sublime the trust 
Heposed in those who rule our favored land; 
And yet temptations, such as spring from lust 
Of power, or love of fame, how few withstand ! 
How few whose virtues may not be unmanned ! 
But still there's hope in Freedom's sacred cause, 
While firmly leagued the Sisterhood shall stand, 
And men bear sway who seek not vain applause, 
Nor pander to embittered strife or bloody wars I — 

XXXV. 

In schools of learning scattered far and wide. 
And cherished fanes that skyward lift their spires ; 
In zeal for truth that's based on virtue's pride. 
In brotherhood, and love, and pure desires. 
And generous hearts that burn with freedom's fires, 
Consist our Country's hope and future weal ; 
And while we bless the memory of our sires, 
For earth's oppressed still let us kindly feel, 
And speed the day when none to tyrant power shall kneel. 



THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 147 

XXXVI. 

Afar through mists that brood the untrodden hills 
Of life, methinks, I see a twinkling flame — 
The dawning of a star, whose light God wills 
To lead the way, and give the age a name. 
When erring man shall cease to be the same 
Dull clod of earth as now; but feel and see 
That he, though not a god, may yet reclaim 
Himself — and still a god aspire to be, 
And, with bold hand, to lore that's locked apply the key ! 

XXXVII. 

'Tis thus, as creed refined succeeds to creed. 
Mankind will learn unfathomed truths divine. 
Whose harmonies, like music from the reed. 
Breathe but of love ; though error's dark design 
May still the soul to waywardness incline. 
yes I — believe or not — that undimmed light 
Which comes from heaven, and with a smile benign 
Tints earth and sky, and all of life that's bright, 
Will yet reveal to man his destiny and might .' 



148 THE LAND OF FREEDOM. 

XXXVIII. 

When Nature speaks, she ever wins the heart 
With thought, and eloquence that's unsurpassed ; 
How wise the lessons which she doth impart I — 
Ah I when will he whose vices chain him fast, 
And whose fond hopes are such as cannot last, 
Bow meekly at her shrine, and there receive 
The gift that makes life's lot, wherever cast, 
The abode of many joys, nor longer grieve, 
In chase of dazzling phantoms, which, though won, deceive I 

XXXIX. 

There is a purity of thought which breathes 
Through Nature's works — a spirit ever calm 
That whispereth of heaven, and gently wreathes 
Devotion's brow with flowers, and pours a balm 
That heals the bosom's grief as if by charm ; 
And yet the worldling clings to vain desires. 
And vainer pomp and pride, which sadly harm 
The kindlier sympathies, and quench the fires 
That else would melt the soul to love, like music^s wires. 



THE LAND OF FREEDOxM. 149 

XL. 

At starry eve, when all is hushed and lone, 
And sainted spirits seem to visit earth; 
When leaves are green, and zephyrs sweetly moan, 
Among the boughs, yet stoop in plaintive mirth, 
To kiss the flowerets, bursting into birth ; — 
then it is that man, 'mid hopes and fears, 
With lifted eye, may learn his moral worth. 
And trace a Power, whom Nature's self reveres, 
Still mightier than all — the Ancient of Eternal Years ! 



A PARTICULAR STAR. 

O'er the mountain, the hill and the vale, 
When the gems of the night gleam afar ; 

Say, who turns not with rapture to hail 
The smile of a particular star ? 

Though too fondly of bliss we may dream, 

And though sorrows our happiness mar ; 

Still, who loves not to bask in the beam 

Of a bright, yet particular star ? 

150 



A PARTICULAR STAR. 151 

Who, that dwells 'neath the musical spheres, 

Chiming low without quaver or bar, 
Can resist the sweet smiles, or the tears, 

Of a very particular star ? 

Yet as pure as the smile in the sky, 
When the morning appears on her car, 

Is the light that sparkles in the eye 
Of a dear, ^at particular star ! 



INNOCENCE 

How can a soul of sinless ray, 

Now breathing love, incline to stray, 

Or need to be forgiven ? 

Innocence I with laughing eyes, 

Thou art a cherub from the skies, 

A wanderer from heaven ! 

152 



INNOCENCE. 153 

Hal gentle spirit, gift divine, 

There's nectar on those lips of thine — 

And sweet the kiss I've won ! 
There dwells no devv^, on proffered lip. 
That's pure, like that on thine, to sip> 

On loveliest woman's, none I 

With heart sincere, while it shall beat, 
May violets spring beneath thy feet, 

And roses crown thy youth ; 
And when to womanhood attained, 
Still may thy graces be unfeigned, 

Thy friendship, love and truth ! 



THE FOURTH OF JULY. 

'Tis Freedom's day, awake, awake, 

And sound in lofty strains 
The patriot's praise, who dared to break 

A tyrant's galling chains ! 
From realms of bliss, ye sainted brave, 

Columbia's joys behold ; 
Smile on the land ye bled to save, 

And strike your harps of gold. 



154 



THE FOURTH OF JULY. 155 

'Tis Freedom's day, arise, arise, 

Ye patriots, sire and son, 
Exalt the Hero and the wise, 

The name of Washington; 
The victor, who in triumph trod 

Where waved the royal crest. 
And won those rights, the gift of God, 

Which make a Nation blest I 

'Tis Freedom's day, rejoice, rejoice, 

And 'neath her banner's flame. 
With feast and song, and cannon's voice, 

The rights of man proclaim I 
Jehovah gave our fathers rest 

From Britain's iron scourge ; 
He gave the Hebrews, when opprest, 

A land beyond the surge I 



SYMPATHIES. 

I LOVE to think that spirits dwell 
Upon the earth — the beautiful, the good, 
Whose sympathies are pure, yet understood 

By none, save those who feel the spell. 

I love to think that in life's vale, 
There are ungathered flowers, whose bosoms glow 
With silent feeling, and with tender wo, 

For him whose hopes, long cherished, fail I 



156 



SYMPATHIES. 157 

I love to think that still a ray, 
Divine, like that of hope, will long be felt 
By her to whom, in earlier years, I knelt. 

The vision of my darkened way ! 

I love to think that I shall meet. 
In brighter realms, the dear departed few, 
Kindred and friends, whose hearts were ever true, 

With those, who make this life still sweet ! 



THE EARTH. 

Methinks the Earth a Book, 
Sealed up for ages ; 

Till Science deigned to look 
Into its pages, 

Searching for truths mistook 
By ancient sages. 

The volume, sure, was writ 
With His own hand. 

Whose brow is ever knit 

With thought unscanned, 

And who, with stars, has lit 
The Better Land ! 



158 



THE EARTH. 159 

No book hath clearer print, 

None richer bound ; 
All wisdom without stint, 

A work profound, 
Which gives for every hint 

A reason sound; 

And fills, with pure desire, 

The soul unfed ; 
And even reveals, entire. 

The primal dead, 
Baptized in molten fire, 

At periods dread ; 

Footprints, where birds have trod; 

Burnt hills and dells, 
Once clad with mould and sod ; 

And ferns, and shells, 
And pines, whose plumes did nod 

In sea-like swells ; 



160 THE EARTH. 

And dark unfathomed lakes, 
With Saurian tribes; 

Monsters, that seemed mistakes, 
Uttering their gibes, 

Till wrecked amid earthquakes, 
With fish for bribes ; 

And mastodons, that sank 
In valleys deep ; 

Where they too deeply drank, 
And fell asleep ; 

When man assumed his rank, 
Too proud to creep : 

Ah ! who that still aspires 
Earth's lore to read, 

Can j&nd, in prophet sires, 
All man doth need 

To sate enlarged desires, 
Or fix his creed? — 



THE EARTH. 161 

He dwells in every flower, ^ 

In every place, 
Who crowns with life each hour, 

And gives it grace, 
And bids us trace His power, 

Still face to face I 



MAN. 

Say, what is man ? to ask — how vain ' 

His footsteps on death's brink ; 
Lo I on his brow there rests a stain, 
And darkness broods his last domain, 
Where all affrighted sink I 

Though formed of earth's unhallowed clay, 

How pure his first estate I 
Inclined to walk in virtue's way, 
He strays the victim of a day — 
A moment seals his fate I 
162 



MAN. 163 



Though born a slave, he still is free 

To will, to act, to love ; 
Though blindly linked to destiny. 
He still is lord of land and sea, 
His spirit's home above. 



? 



Whate'er his creed, 'tis still denied 1 

Yes, oft for conscience' sake. 
The dupe of dark, fanatic pride, 
Hath spilled a brother's blood, or died 
A martyr at the stake. 

Alas ! condemned to toil and care, 

Allied to earth's cold sod, 
Man lives to grope in doubt, despair, 
And dies at last, perhaps to share 
The attributes of God I 



164 



THE SLEIGH RIDE. 

Ho ! for the ride, the jolly sleigh ride, 
And the heart that kindly swells, 

Brimming with mirth to the silver chime 
Of the merry, merry bells; 

The bells, the bells, the laughing Belles. 

Oyer the hills and over the plains, 
And across the haunted dells, 

cheer the steeds to the silver chime 
Of the merry, merry bells ; 

The bells, the bells, the fairy Belles. 



THr: ^Li:iG» ride. 165 

And jeweled with frost away we'll hie 
To the Hall where pleasure dwells, 

Led by the stars to the silver chime 
Of the merry, merry bells ; 

The bells, the bells, the lovely Belles. 

And there amid flowers chase the gay hours, 

Until morn the night dispels, 
Then home return to the silver chime 

Of the merry, merry bells ; 
The beils, the bells, the witching Belles. 

Ho I for the ride, the jolly sleigh ride, 

And the heart that kindly swells, 
Brimming with mirth to the silver chime 

Of the merry, merry bells ; 
The bells, the bells, the laughing Belles! 



THE LAMENT. 

In every sweet there lurks a sting, 
Yet dreams deceptive seem to fling 

Enchantment o'er life's scenes and going years ; 
Even Pity mourns in silent awe, 
"While Nature's true and kindred law 

Constrains the heart to sympathise in tears I 

All! man scarce joins life's wild career, 
Scarce quits his cradle, ere the bier 
Transports his last remains, his native clay. 
To parent earth, who kindly gave, 
And kindlier still aflbrds a grave. 
Where all in silence wait immortal day ! 
166 



THE LAMENT. 167 

Once Thebes might boast a hundred gates, 

And haughtiest kings their rich estates, 
But Time's destructive hand has laid them low I 

Thus Ages gone, in ruins sleep; 

Where temples stood, dark ivies creep, 
And winds now sigh to notes of pensive wo I 



HUMAN HEARTS. 

The wise of olden time, the good, the great, 
Who ne'er were schooled in creed or psalter, 

Believed what Nature taught ; yet men, of late, 
Believe — they know not what — and falter I 

The striving elements are foes by fate. 
And, darkly passive, all things alter ; 

While human hearts like mysteries appear, 

Who reads them well, must wipe the falling tear ! 



168 



HUMAN HEARTS, 169 

Yet generous hearts that feel for others'* need, 

Still beat to music, sad or golden ; 
The sands of life run out with anxious speed, 

Yet men live on, and still embolden 
Themselves to do base deeds for which they bleed, 

Or sink in death forever holden ; 
Forgetting and forgot beneath the knoll, 
And yet they live — immortal lives the soul. 

But ah I how quick the thread of life is spun, 
How quick we die and waste to ashes ; 

And yet we love the world, and heedless run 
The race of life, like wave that dashes 

Upon the sullen beach — and all is done ! 
'Tis good to share affliction's lashes, 

And thus, by sad experience, sadly learn, 

How frail our scanty joys this side the urn I 

There is a magic in that ^(^x^ farewell! 

'Tis like a dirge that doth betoken 
The parting hour, the bosom's heaving swell, 

When holiest feelings are not spoken, 



170 HUMAN HEARTS. 



But deeply felt — and this, a tear may tell 

A bursting heart already broken I — 
Oft Beauty smiles to screen her bosom's grief; 
Oft tears purloin the heart — a tear's a thief I 



Yet woman is of heaven the goodliest gift, 

The first inspiring theme of poet ; 
'Tis woman's very soul — it is her drift — 

Beloved — to love in turn — I know it I 
Her merits all must praise, nor dare to sift, 

Her eye persuades, when tears o'erflow it! 
She is the true redeeming charm of life — ^ 
An angel, always kindest, when a wife! 

There is a language, in the purling brook, 
And smiling flower, that's linked with reason. 

In Nature, all is truth — in every nook — 

Through land and sea, through time and season ; 

And yet man's heart is but a mystic book, 
In which are writ deceit and treason. 

And secret things, which God alone can know, 

Intentions dark, and fearful deeds of wo I — 



HUMAN HEARTS. 171 

Let him, who would reform the moral world, 

Go forth, and gather from the pages 
Of Nature's Book the wisdom there unfurled, 

And in the sky, and sea that rages, 
Search out the hidden truths which lie empearled 

Beyond the ken of purblind sages ; 
And yet, how vain his wisdom, and his pelf, 
Who ne'er has learned the lesson — *' Know Thyself " I 



DEPARTED. 

Too pure for earth, too pure for earth, 

Thy home the Spirit Land, 
Where earth-fcorn fiowers unfadiDg smile, 

Transferred by acgel hand I 

Yes, on thy brow, the calm, bright skies 
Of heaven their radiance shed ; 

The gift is thine — an angel's harp — 
How blest the early dead I 



172 



DEPARTED. 173 

From sorrow's vale, uncheered and dark, 

From tears and vain desires, 
While young and sinless thou art freed — 

The soul to heaven aspires I 

And yet thy name remains entwined 

With memories ever dear ; 
And they, who on thee oft have smiled, 

Now smile but through a tear ! 



THE CLASSIC LAND. 

Go shroud thee in the mist of olden time, 

Amid the ruins of the Past ; 
Go tread the templed hills of classic clime, 
And list to patriot Bards, whose songs sublime 

Inspired, like peal of trumpet blast, 

The mountaineers, and woke the slumbering vales, 

Ere Greece was heard to pour her funeral wails I 
174 



THE CLASSIC LAND. 175 

Though fallen, glorious still, Greece, thy fate ! 

Glorious 'neath centuries^of night I 
For thine the Classic Land, where Science sate, 
Of yore, amid the Arts ; and where the great, 

The good, the wise, who sought the right, 
Have reared to Ages, as they fleetly run, 
A proud philosophy, surpassed by none I 

But where are now thy beautiful, and brave. 

Thy temples, gods, and festal games ? 
Awe-struck, we trace the isles that gem thy wave, 
And point to Athens, and revere thy grave I — 

Yes, oft repeat thine honored names 
Of Heroes — Poets — Orators and Sage — 
And feel thine influence still in every Age ! 



THE CELESTIAL VISITANT. 

Like the ray of a lone bright star, 

Her spirit oft visits me still, 
And brings back the years from afar. 

When heart beat to heart with a thrill ! 

And tinting my dreams with the hue 
Of a smile derived from the sky, 

She moistens my brow with the dew 
Of a tear-drop warm from her eye I 



176 



THE CELESTIAL VISITANT. 177 

And sweetly she breathes in my ear 
The vow, which I made in my youth ; 

And with lips still fervid and dear, 
She pledges her love and her truth. 

And in tones still gentle and kind, 
She whispers of joys that are past, — 

Of life, with its pleasures refined, 
And of love's first dream, and its last ! 

And arrayed in her bridal flowers, 

Though life's early dream hath departed. 

Beyond the dark cloud that still lowers, 
She awaits me, my own true-hearted I 



THE MYSTIC CHART. 

Ah I who forgets bis youthful day, 

Life's morning star of purest ray, 

When hopes were high, and hearts were gay, 

Beneath that star's bright beam ? 
Ah I who would not retrace his way, 

And catch the tinted dream ? 

Though but a dream, its memories cheer 
The furrowed brow, and wipe the tear, 
While early friendships, ever dear, 

Their plighted faith renew ; 
And pleasure, from her radiant sphere, 

Bids every care adieu ! 



178 



THH iMYSTIC CHART. 

Yet where are tliej, who sped the dance, 
When eye met eye with raptured glance, 
And hearts were yielding to the trance 

Of Beauty's magic charms ; 
And vows were made, as if by chance, 

Which Memory still embalms ? 

But why that fairy throng recall ? — 
They come — but not to grace the hall ; 
They come with faded hopes, and all 

The sorrows of the heart I — 
Like shadows flitting on the wall, 

They come, and, dim, depart I 

And thus like shadows, come and go 
Youth, Manhood, Age — life's joy and wo, 
With all on which we here bestow 

Our love and fondest care! 
Yet why repine? or seek to know 

The burdens we must bear? 



180 THE MYSTIC CHART. 

And yet — the final lot of man, 
The grand design of Nature's plan, 
Her stern decrees , ah, who can scan, 

Or learn what lies in store ? — 
*Tis all we know that life's a span, 

And truth a hidden lore ! 

Hidden from all, who cannot trace 
In Nature's works a work of grace; 
Nor yet in her illumined face 

Behold, with child-like trust. 
The smile of God, which crowns life's race, 

The triumph of the just I 



Itote. 



NOTES. 

Note 1. Page 13 — Mount Yernon. 
Breathes of the past, 'tis consecrated ground. 

Mount Vernon, consecrated as the Home of Washington, is pleasant- 
ly situated in the County of Fairfax, Virginia, on the South bank of the 
Potomac, and has an elevation of 200 feet above the surface of the 
River, which at this point is two miles wide. 

The old Family Mansion, which crowns the hill, was originally 
built by Washington's uncle, who gave it the name of "Mount Ver- 
non" in honor of Admiral Vernon, under whom he had served in the 
British Navy. 

The engraving, which accompanies this volume, gives, it is believ- 
ed, the only full and accurate view of Mount Vernon, which has as 
yet been published. 

Note 2. Page 14. 
Though but a lowly shrine. 

The object of the most intense interest to visitors at Mount Vemon, 
is of course the " Tomb of Washington." It is situated in a lovely re- 
treat on the hillside, and though not seen from the river, is suddenly 
disclosed to view as you ascend the hill from the landing. 

This retired, yet hallowed spot, is sprinkled with wild flowers, and 
shaded by the dark cedar and the stately oak, and was selected, it is 
said, by Washington himself, for the purpose to which it has been ap- 
propriated. The Tomb is of moderate dimensions, and of plain exte- 
rior, constructed of brick, with an iron door of open work, through 
which, you can see, in the interior, two marble sarcophagi arranged 
side by side, one of which contains the remains of George Washington, 
the other those of Martha, his wife. 



NOTES. 183 

Note 3. Page 15. 

Though few, they linger yet. 

Tlie Mount Vernon estate is still owned and occupied by a relative 
of Washington, It should belong to the Federal Government, and ba 
preserved as a public ground. 

Note 4. Page 17. 

And where the garden cheers. 

The flower garden, still tasteful in appearance, remains as it was in 
the days of Washington, and contains several choice exotics, and some 
native shrubs, planted by his own hand. 

Note 5. Page 20. 

B While tears, with magic power, 

P In silence fell, like dew-drops on the flower. 

Speaking of La Fayette's visit to the "Tomb of Washington," Mr. 
Lavasseur, who was present, alludes in his correspondence to the fact 
that "La Fayette descended alone into the vault, and a few minutea 
after, reappeared, with his eyes overflowing with tears." 



I 



Note 6. Page 22. 
Flung back from hill to hill with wild delight ! 



Mr. Sparks, in his Life of Washington, remarks, in reference to the 
success of the American arms at the Battle of Trenton, that "the de- 
spondency which had weighed heavily on the minds of the people, 
was dispelled as by a charm, the martial spirit revived, and a new an- 
imation infused into the public counsels." 

Note 7. Page 24. 

Yea, from a proffered, kingly crown, 
With scorn he turned away. 

A short time before the American Army was disbanded, at the close 
of the Revolution, a Colonel in the service, "of a highly respectable 
character, and somewhat advanced in age," as the agent of those en- 
gaged in the scheme, communicated to General Washington a very 



184: NOTES. 

flattering proposal to permit himself to be made King over the Ameri- 
can people; to which the General indignantly replied in the following 
characteristic letter, as noble and patriotic in sentiment, as it is beau- 
tiful in style: 

^'Newburg, 22 May, 1782. 
"Sir:— 

With a mixture of great surprise and astonishment, I have read with 
attention the sentiments you have submitted to my perusal. Be as- 
sured, Sir, no occurrence in the course of the war has given me more 
painful sensations than your information of there being such ideas ex- 
isting in the army, as you have expressed, and which I must view 
with abhorrence, and reprehend with severity. For the present, the 
communication of them will rest in my own bosom, unless some furth- 
er agitation of the matter, shall make a disclosure necessary. 

1 am at a loss to conceive what part of my conduct could have giv- 
en encouragement to an address, which to me seems big with the 
greatest mischiefs that can befall my country. If I am not deceived 
in the knowledge of myself, you could not have found a person to 
whom your schemes are more disagreeable. At the same time, in jus- 
tice to my own feelings, I must add, that no man possesses a more sin- 
cere wish to see ample justice done to the army than I do; and as far 
as my power and influence in a constitutional way, extend, they shall 
be employed to the utmost of my abilities to effect it, should there be 
any occasion. Let me conjure you, then, if you have any regard for 
your country, concern for yourself or posterity, or respect for me, to 
banish these thoughts from your mind, and never communicate, as 
from yourself, or any one else, a sentiment of the like nature, 

I am. Sir, &c., 

GEORGE WASHINGTON." 

Note 8. Page 25. 

How vain the lofty tower. 

Alluding to the ''Washington Monument" in the City of Washing- 
ton. 

Note 9. Page 139 — The Land of Freedom. 



I 



The Rock on which erst stepped the Pilgrim maid. 

Dr. Thacher, in his "History of the Town of Plymouth," states thai 
"The Mayflower having arrived in the harbor from Cape Cod, Mary 
Chilton entered the first landing boat, and looking forward, exclaim- 
ed, "I will be the first to step on that Rock." Accordingly, when 
the boat approached, Mary Chilton was permitted to be the first from 
that boat who appeared on the Rock." 



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